I Never Tell You
by Sunbird Riding Shotgun
Summary: Four times Eliot thought about leaving and one time no one was there to stop him.
1. I Never Tell You

**Notes:** The first time I watched the Reunionn Job I was left with this really bad taste in my mouth by the last scene. This was the result. Obviously a tag to The Reunion Job.

* * *

**I Never Tell You**

* * *

The first time Eliot thought about leaving was after the wedding job.

No. It was during their first job together but everyone was thinking about leaving then so even if his reasons were different that still doesn't count.

The first time Eliot thought about leaving was after the wedding job. After the dinner when they'd all headed back to the offices and everyone else had gone home for the night.

Eliot was in his office, checking himself over, making sure his fight with the butcher hadn't left him with any injuries that needed more attention than a couple of icepacks.

And okay. Maybe he was trying very hard not to freak out.

He'd fought the Butcher.

Sure he'd fought the Butcher before and walked away alive. He was probably one of the only people on earth who could honestly say that.

But he'd been young, stupid, and damn lucky when it happened. The Butcher had underestimated him and Eliot knew that wouldn't happen a second time.

He'd gotten better over the years since but he still had no idea about who would come out on top and if he was honest with himself there was more than a little old fear when even thinking about the Butcher.

Except he'd fought the Butcher, killed the Butcher.

And he was standing here, staring at the bruises on his body, trying to wonder why the hell he hadn't just done the smart thing and run.

He'd gotten lucky again. They'd fought in a kitchen. They'd fought on Eliot's turf, in a place full of potential weapons that Eliot knew and the Butcher didn't.

In another setting Eliot might have, probably would have, ended up dead.

He should have left as soon as The Butcher came into play.

But he hadn't.

Because if he had left the team would have to deal with The Butcher and they'd all be dead.

He'd put his life on the line to protect them.

He knew he should leave before he gave them more.

A knock on the door brought his attention back to Nate. Distantly Eliot had been aware of the man's return but it hadn't registered as a threat and had gone mostly ignored.

"Eliot?" Nate asked, slipping into the room, eyes sweeping over the bruises staining Eliot's skin. "Will you need time off to recover?" He asked, professionalism and just a hint of authority hitting old instincts.

"No. I'm good. Just some superficial bruising." Eliot responded automatically, only belatedly reminding himself Nate was his boss, not his CO.

"Good to hear." Nate said before holding up the bottle Eliot had registered but not noticed until then. "Came to offer you a drink and see if one of your hidden talents is chess."

Eliot found glasses, letting Nate pour the drinks as he pulled out the chess set he kept behind his desk and set up the pieces.

They played three games (Eliot actually won the second) before Eliot gave up trying to figure out Nate's motive and focused solely on the game. He'd puzzle over it later but for the moment he'd just appreciate that Nate's sudden interest in him and his chess strategies came at the right time to give him something to think about other than the three months in hell that led to his first fight with the Butcher.

When the sun started to rise and Nate told him to go home and to let them know if he needed some time off Eliot realized maybe that had been Nate's motive all along.

The next day he noticed the team were knocking on his door more than usual and Parker and Hardison bugging him more than normal.

He was giving the team his body to use as a shield against the world but they were trying to give him protection from his own world in return.

Eliot put the need to run to rest, for the moment.

**oOo**

The second time Eliot thought about leaving was in Miami.

He was sitting (okay, pacing) in his hotel room trying to force himself to calm down.

And trying very hard not to freak out.

Nate was beginning to spiral out of control and put the whole team at risk and they were all starting to wonder if maybe the faith they'd given Nate was horribly misplaced.

And maybe that was why he had this need to just *run* and get the hell out.

He'd put his faith in Nate and his crazy plans and that he'd find a way to make it work and in the team's ability to pull themselves together and get through it in one piece.

He'd put faith in someone other than himself.

He needed to leave before he gave them something he couldn't take back.

_After this job. _He told himself. _I make sure they all make it through alive and then I leave._

His mental voice didn't have nearly the kind of finality he would have liked.

Before he could restate it in a way that sounded like he actually believed it there was a knock on the door followed quickly by Sophie letting herself into the room with a key Eliot was quite certain he hadn't given her.

…Grifters.

"You here ta defend Nate?" He half said, half growled. He didn't want to talk to her or anyone else right now.

Sophie let the door shut behind her and turned to watch him without comment.

"Don't waste your breath." Eliot continued like she had made a move to talk to him, half considering trying to start pushing them away already. It'd make his exit easier.

And make it harder for him to chicken out later.

"I'm not gonna kill him." Eliot told her, settling himself on the desk chair, deservedly ignoring the part of him that told him he should sit on the bed so she could sit on the chair if she wanted to. "And I'm not gonna abandon the con halfway through the job." Now, when the job was over…

"What about after the job?"

Fucking grifters.

"I-"  
Sophie held up a hand and he stopped, not even sure why besides maybe a part of his brain wanting her to give him an excuse to stay.

He really really needed to leave if that was the case.

"Things are getting out of control." Sophie said. "Nate will fix this mess." The 'Because he's Nathan Ford' was unspoken but understood. "But after… you know we couldn't do this without you." The last bit, added quietly, took him entirely off guard. "You're our safety net, our shield. We trust you not to keep us safe on a job. That's your job and so long as it is we can focus on doing our job and trusting Nate's plans even if it seems a bad idea because we know you won't let us get hurt."

He didn't even know how to respond to that.

She gave him a little smile. "Eliot, stay, do your job." The 'for us' and the 'please' weren't said. She was Sophie after all.

Even if later he'd suspect she'd been trying to con him and hadn't meant it as much as she'd seemed to, at least not then, he'd forgive her. Because in time he saw the looks Parker and Hardison shot him when Nate's planned strayed a little too far into the realm of impossible and the relief on all their faces every time he showed up when a job was starting to go south.

He'd given them his faith, but they'd given him theirs.

And even if it wouldn't be entirely true until later it was enough for him to put the need to leave to rest for a little longer.

**oOo**

The third time Eliot thought about leaving was as he sat on the couch in Parker's office on one side of the thief trying to will time to just move faster.

Settled between him and Hardison Parker was well into withdrawal from the Happy Pills. Shivering and twitching, cocooned in a blanket, and not quite stable enough to continue the pacing she'd been doing when they first started to wear off. Figured even her withdrawal wouldn't be normal.

He's watching her, practically holding her in a shared attempt with Hardison to help her feel warmer and connected since they both were aware of the dangers of suddenly going off anti-depressants, and he realizes it just hurts to see her like this.

He wasn't even sure when it had happened but he'd started to really care about these people.

He should just leave he gave them too much.

But he had already given them way more than he should.

But had been starting to finally settle, curling around herself her twitching slowing, and now when he looked down she'd actually fallen to sleep. Her head rested against Hardison's shoulder but a pale hand reached out from the blankets and gripped onto his shirt like she was holding onto something too precious to let escape.

Hardison looked up, giving him a relieved smile, and then both silently settled down.

He couldn't leave. Parker was finally sleeping.

It was the first time she'd slept around any of them.

He'd given the team his heart, or as much of it as was still in big enough pieces to give. But they'd returned by offering him their own misshapen and broken pieces.

And they seem to fit together so well he didn't think he could leave anymore.

**oOo**

The fourth time Eliot thought about leaving was the night after the job against Stark's crew. He'd gone to a hotel with Micheal and they'd had hot hitter sex and as they lay there, catching their breath's for a second round she'd mentioned that she had a job lined up in South America and if he needed a vacation he could come along.

By herself it was a job but with him it would be fun.

He closed his eyes, seeing the job unfold. Violence, hot suns, long days fighting together and probably having more fun than a sane person should have taking out mooks, and longer nights with each other and no promises past the end of the job.

God knew he'd done it and variations of it a dozen times before.

Part of him missed the times like those when he could give the violence in him a longer leash, step back, and enjoy the ride and only worry about his own back.

But he asked her how long they'd be gone and she said three weeks minimum and he knew he couldn't leave the crew even that long even if Nate would let him.

He ended up not staying the night, leaving a little after two in the morning.

As he drove back to Nate's he had this sudden urge to just keep driving. He had spent his entire life either trying to get or keep his freedom, his independence, control over his own life and body despite outside influences always trying to take that and everything else.

And somewhere along the line he'd just given it over to the team. Now Nate and this crew dictated where he went and when, what he did, what jobs he took, and even how much he drank or what he did with his free time (never anything that might leave him unable to protect them).

He needed to leave before he gave them everything he had left.

But he fought the urge to run. He climbed the stairs and let himself into Nate's apartment.

He wasn't even surprised to see everyone still awake they all were night owls and the post job high wouldn't let any of them sleep for a few more hours yet.

He went to the kitchen, busying his hands with making something to feed them should any of them still be hungry (a likely hood with this crew).

Over his shoulder Hardison called out an offhand. "Didn't think you'd be home tonight."

It was five minutes later when the words penetrated the fog of *_Leavenow_*and dispelled the entire urge.

In a moment of clarity Eliot realized that while he'd given his freedom to protect the team they had given him a home.

Given him a family.

And he figured so long as it was to protect home and family he could give everything he could.

To keep them safe he would.

**oOo**

They never saw it coming.

Four thieves, four of the best thieves in the world who together could observe something from just about every angle, never saw it coming.

It had seemed so insignificant then, even funny.

They'd danced a step closer to the one they cared about and listened to Eliot rant like always.

They'd want to blame him for always being angry about things so much they stopped paying attention and hadn't noticed the hurt.

Hadn't noticed that hint of a sound like something bending and bending and breaking.

But that was an excuse.

They didn't notice when his com went offline. He'd gotten back to the apartment and stopped ranting and they all just assumed he'd settled down with a book to wait for them.

Shrugging off the incident like he shrugged off a blow.

That analogy hurt like hell now because they hadn't realized they'd dealt him a blow to someplace he was far less prepared to take one.

They hadn't even noticed when they first got back to the apartment and only to find he wasn't there. They figured he might have actually been pissed off and gone up to his studio on the floor above to work off a little steam before the debriefing.

It was Parker scavenging through the kitchen for something to fend off the post job munchies Eliot normally took care of by cooking who first saw the knives were gone.

A block of extremely high quality cheff's knives had sat proudly in Nate's kitchen since after the job in Nebraska was now missing two knives.

"Eliot's knives are gone." Parker said.

"Maybe he's practicing throwing them." Hardison offered. "Or fightin' with them or whatever. Dudes got to stay in practice somehow."

She nodded but continued her search, brows creasing when she found the spice rack in one of Nate cupboards was missing a bottle. Parker walked her fingers over the bottles, remembering each one and what Eliot used it for. There was one final bottle he'd told her over and over to never try tasting.

He'd been using his guys with guns voice and she'd obeyed him even if her fingers got an itch.

Across the room Nate made a confused noise that almost sounded like a gasp.

Sophie gasped a moment later and Parker looked over.

Nate and Sophie were both looking at something on Nate's desk. Parker moved closer and felt something inside her sad angry place freeze up even as she asked. "…what is it?"

Nate's hand shook just a little bit as he brushed between the objects, like he had to physically touch them in the hopes they weren't actually real.

Three keys (to the building, Nate's apartment, and Eliot's studio Parker's brain registered), an ear bud, and the cell phone Hardison had given Eliot sat on top of a small pile of passports, ids, and badges that looked like the entire alias history Hardison had set up for Eliot for their crew.

And peaking out underneath the small pile was a well worn candid photo of the four of them in Nate's apartment Eliot must have taken with his phone at some point.

It was simple. No words. No explanation. No goodbyes.

Just quietly giving back the equivalent of his gun and badge and slipping away into the night.

They'd all sit down hard, the four sets of eyes barely visible peaking out from under a pile of identities mocking them.

Not one of them would break the silence for a long time.

They thought about complaints of "who wants my job? I get punched and kicked." That they never even responded to most of the time.

They thought about bruises and cuts and broken bones they'd gotten so good at pretending they didn't see.

They thought about the constant vigilance that made them all feel safe enough to relax and do their jobs.

They thought about a brother who took care of them no matter how much they pissed him off and no matter how tired he'd started to look these past few months, stretched thin looking after his younger siblings, a more constant and reliable force in their lives than either parent.

Then they thought of the odd one out raging at them over the com asking if any of them even wondered if he was still alive.

And how they'd all smiled at the sound of Eliot being Eliot as usual.

Nate slid the picture out from under the pile with more care than Parker normally handled priceless artifacts.

It was then she saw the words scrawled across the back, the simple explanation.

_I have nothing left to give._


	2. What You're Worth

**What You're Worth**

* * *

Nate was the one who found him first.

No, it was a combination effort. Sophie and Nate providing a profile, Parker adjusting their guess because Eliot would know their initial profile and unless he really just wanted to be found he'd go somewhere else, and Hardison actually did the locating.

They'd thought he'd hide out on a ranch, maybe some place he'd retire to.

It hurt a little more to find out he'd gone back to Chicago and was, as far as they could tell, living in an apartment in a bad part of the city.

Nate had been the first one to go after him though.

Over the long trip to get there he'd rehearsed what he'd say in his head, examining different strategies and different courses like a chess game.

Of course he didn't understand why Eliot had left which made this a little more difficult.

Oh sure, he'd seen the message on the back of the photo, knew Eliot thought he'd given them too much, that they didn't appreciate him but this was Eliot not some ninth grade girl who was left out when her friends went to junior prom.

There had to be something else.

He just needed to figure out what it was, fix it, and tell Eliot to come back home.

God, this was like Sophie all over again.

Was every member of the team going to go off taking a sabbatical without warning?

Eliot doesn't seemed surprised when Nate knocks on the door to the loft apartment he's staying him. He just opens the door, leans against the doorframe to block Nate's entry into the apartment, and waits.

With those blue eyes watching him impassively, face not hinting any emotion, Eliot looking like the Retrieval Specialist Nate had known years ago rather than Eliot Spencer…

His plans slipped between his fingers.

"Come back." Was all that actually came out. He and Eliot had always spoken much with few words and looks. A nod, a glance toward the teammates, a slightly concerned look, saying 'go ahead' or 'do your job' or 'are you hurt bad enough I need to pull you back?' "We need you."

With just two words he hoped Eliot understood that they needed him.

That they missed him.

He missed him.

It may have seemed like he'd just given Eliot an order but it was so much more than just an order.

Eliot pushed himself to stand straight and Nate thought he was about to let him into the apartment to further plead his case.

He didn't expect Eliot to close the door in his face.

**oOo**

Sophie was the second to go after Eliot, two weeks after Nate's failed attempt, making her way through the dimly lit hallway of his apartment building. She stopped outside what was supposedly his door, surprised by the sound of children laughing inside.

She'd barely knocked when he answered. "Come in." He said quietly, letting her inside.

A good sign she hoped.

Of course it could just be him letting the gentleman show through. Nate he could leave standing in his doorway but Sophie he'd at least let in and offer a chair.

She was surprised to find him half herding seven children under the age of ten away from the door. "No school today 'cause the school's mainline broke but their parent's couldn't stay home from work to watch 'em an' no one in this building can afford a sitter." He explained.

Too many emotions to identify them individually bubbled up from her chest as she watched Eliot, dressed down to blend in, watching protectively over the mass of children who all looked just a little too thin.

There was the smell of Eliot's tomato sauce coming from the apartment's make shift kitchen and she managed to smile a little.

"Stay for lunch." He offered to her. "Help me get 'em all fed and I'll let you say your bit."

It was a new experience, and one her jacket would certainly never forget, but forty minutes later the kids each had a heaping plate of spaghetti and tomato sauce and were eating contentedly. Sophie followed Eliot out the back window and onto the fire escape where they could talk in semi private but Eliot could keep a watch on the kids.

"We did a job." Sophie told him. "That's why I wasn't here the day after Nate. We did a job." She left the 'without you' in the silence. "Nate was as reckless as ever. Parker nearly got caught. Hardison has a black eye. The only reason neither has worse is because you taught them how to fight."

As she spoke Eliot's hands tightened on the railing, his body going tense, and Sophie knew at the very least he still cared.

That wasn't the problem.

"Come back." She urged him. "I know you're doing good even here but we did good together. If you're tired of fighting…"

Eliot gave a soft, bitter, almost brittle sounding bark of a noise that might have been called laughter if Sophie wasn't so familiar with Eliot's actual laugh. "You think it's because I'm tired of fightin'?"

Words, plans, her whole read on the situation slipped through Sophie's fingers.

She'd thought he was tired of fighting, tired of the violence and the injuries, and being treated like their glorified body guard and underestimated as just dumb muscle.

Yes, they needed his protection but they needed him more. If he wanted to stop fighting she'd teach him how to be a grifter and convince them all to learn how to fight.

He shook his head. "Violence is a part of me darlin'. I wouldn't stop fightin' any more than Parker would stop jumpin' off buildings."

"Then why did you leave?"

He met her eyes, anger there, but also resignation and exhaustion of a far different sort. "you're the grifter. Why didn't you know you had to stop me again?"

He looked away and slipped back into the apartment leaving Sophie with an answer she didn't want to consider.

**oOo**

Parker went after Eliot the day after Sophie.

She watched him from a distance as he walked out of the local grocery store with two bags full of groceries, watched him stop for just half a moment along the side of the sidewalk and curse for a reason she didn't understand.

She followed him back to his apartment and watched as he unloaded the groceries and realized he'd bought enough to feed five out of habit instead enough just for himself.

She bit her lip, swung into the apartment, and moved to help him.

He didn't even look surprised when she was suddenly there, helping him put away groceries. At least she knew where everything went from helping him before.

Eliot had few habits, but the ones he had stayed with him no matter where he went.

When everything was packed away she pushed herself up to sit on the counter, took a deep deep breath, and said. "Come back and I'll give you two million dollars."

He looked at her, surprise written across his face, and she took the opportunity to blaze forward, not letting herself pause. She didn't *want* to give him money but she wanted him back more than she wanted money.

That had been a big realization for her.

And she thought maybe if she offered to give him money he'd know he meant more to her than money and that would make him come back. Plus he'd have something left now.

Wasn't that what he said the problem was? He had nothing left?

"And that's just your coming back bonus. I'll give you a third of my cut from now on." She didn't need it right? She'd just… do a couple side jobs and she wouldn't even miss it. Plus. She'd have Eliot. Focus on Eliot.

Maybe if it worked she could tell the others and they could take turns.

His surprise turned into that soft smile he got sometimes when it was just the two of them and she was being herself and he said there was something wrong with her but not like it was a bad thing because he knew her now, and understood her even better than Hardison.

That smile was something she wanted back.

"That's sweet darlin'." He said pushing himself away from the counter. "But when I come back it's not gonna be 'cause someone paid me… even if that someone is you." Her hopes fell, though she had her money and the fact she was pretty sure he understood her offer as consolation.

"But you will come back?" She asked. "You promise when we figure out why you left and fix it you'll come back?"

He didn't answer right away, but Parker was patient. She watched as he moved around the kitchen, making dinner, making dinner enough for the both of them, without comment.

When he handed her a plate and a mug of cold tea with a splash of Orange soda (the way she liked it, even if she wasn't sure why he had a bottle of orange soda on hand) she let her hands rest over his. "Eliot?"

He let out a breath and she finally realized the name of that thing he'd been carrying around with him since before he walked out on them.

Exhaustion, resignation, like he was carrying something far too heavy to hold, but far too precious to let go.

And it was suffocating him.

"I don't know." He said simply, the words hollow, tired, uncertain, everything so very un Eliot but at the same time honest, like someone being honest for the first time and not sure what to do with it now that it's out there.

She watched him and felt like she was watching something break a little more.

"Why?" Parker asked.

He blinked at her, like people do when she asks them the question she wasn't supposed to ask.

There was that smile again, only with the look in his eyes it was all wrong. "'cause I don't think I'd be able to leave a second time if I had to." He answered. "I don't think there'd be enough of me left."

He took his hands away from hers, retreating to the fire escape without his food.

She ate her food quickly, telling herself she didn't need to savor it because it wasn't going to be the last meal he cooked for her, and joined him.

She didn't say anything, just sat beside him, scooched over close, and leaned against his shoulder.

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and they watched the city wake up as night fell and she held onto her brother as long as he'd let her.

And if when she walked out the buildings backdoor and down the street her eyes burned and her face got wet and she felt like she couldn't breathe because Eliot had told her goodbye before she left and he only did that when he didn't know if he was going to be seeing someone again she blamed it on the rain.

**oOo**

Hardison went after Eliot roughly twenty minutes after Parker got back to the suite they were all sharing while trying to steal themselves an Eliot.

The others had been nice. Well okay, Nate had ordered Eliot back which wasn't nice but Eliot usually appreciated a clear chain of command and yeah Parker had tried to pay him to come back but it was Parker and that was more than nice from Parker.

They had all been nice and as apologetic as people as emotionally stunted as them could be. They had fed Eliot's little temper tantrum

And really, Hardison had been convinced this was nothing more than a temper tantrum and if they stopped paying attention to it Eliot would just come back and they could try to get through that man- child's childhood trauma and fix the most recent emotional issue.

But that was *before* Parker came back trying to look like she hadn't been crying.

That was frikken it.

Nate had tried to stop him. Parker had been quiet and not asked him to kill Eliot like the last time someone had made her cry. Sophie had given that look she'd given him over and over since the first day after Eliot walked out on them and the shock had worn off and Hardison had realized this was a hitter's version of throwing a tantrum for not getting his way.

He'd gone out anyway, tracking his way through the city to Eliot's place, going up to his apartment, picking the lock and loudly banging the door open ready to give the hitter a piece of his mind.

Seeing the hitter for the first time in weeks, dressed a worn out and poorly made version of his usual clothes, sitting at a battered table, looking up from the meal he was eating alone made something inside Hardison pause half a second before he shook it off and barged in.

Only to find the carefully constructed verbal bitch slapping Eliot so deserved had disappeared.

"I hope you're happy." Hardison finally managed, trying to make his voice as growly and angry as he felt. "You made Parker cry."

Eliot put down his silverware (plastic, looked like reused take out, his mind told him. He knew Eliot was blending in and playing a role but why on earth did it have to be this one? Didn't the hitter at least have the sense to run away to somewhere nice and safe?) and pushed himself slowly to his feet.

And god did Eliot always look this tired?

When Eliot didn't respond more than just to meet his eyes steadily Hardison barreled forward. "Sophie was… nah, Sophie is a wreck. I thought Nate's drinking got bad the night you just up and left but I didn't have the night he got back from his visit here to compare it with yet. Compared to that he was flippen fantastic that night. Parker was walking round like a zombie for three. Days. Then she started searching the entire building for everything of yours you'd left behind." His voice was starting to grow lounder. "All because of what? Because we asked you to go play a role in a con instead of letting you tag along to a party? Because we didn't ask if you were alright? Are you seriously so fucked up in the head that if we don't say 'thank you you're awesome' every time you do your job you abandon us?"

"Here's a funny thing 'bout what you just said there." Eliot said his face not changing, something disturbing about him not responding with anger for once. "It wasn't just one time." He turned his back to Hardison, moving to go do something that Hardison didn't even really follow because of the punch to the metaphorical gutt he'd just been given.

He didn't want to think about the fact he couldn't remember a time when the team had given more attention to what Eliot did for them than to poke at his injuries to annoy him.

"You left because we took you for granted?" Hardison said, his voice not as angry as he wanted it to be.

Eliot stopped what he was doing, one hand on the door of the open refrigerator, deep breath in, deep breath out.

"No." The word came softly, sounding final, like any other one word answer Eliot ever gave, but then he kept going. "I fight. I cook. I keep you safe. It's what I do and seeing my family sittin' round a table together an' alive is more than I would have thought I'd ever get five years ago." He let out another breath, shoulders slumping a little further, exhaustion writing over his body a little bit more like it was taking what he had left to put this out there. "Or for those six fucking long months of trying to hold us together while waiting for the news that something happened to Nate…"

There was a hint of fear that made something in Hardison hurt, that he wanted to end even if the fear was old. "Dude, it was minimum security."

Eliot gave a bark of laughter before letting out another breath before adding. "I know… but the prisons I've been in…" He hesitated a second, the slight hitch to his words Hardison was more used to hearing when he was playing a role in a con. "In my head I knew he was in a minimum security prison and that Sterling wouldn't let him get killed before he testified… but something in here…" He tapped his chest. "well it's never quite forgotten four months in Serbia, six weeks in North Korea, three weeks in Egypt, or a prison camp in Croatia. It's my job to keep you all safe and for Six months I couldn't do my job." He shook it off, grabbed whatever he was grabbing from the fridge and shut the door with a little more force than he needed to. "I got tired."

Hardison winced mentally at the memory of a joke he'd made once about Eliot studying any visual of Nate they'd gotten while he was away and how maybe Eliot had something he needed to tell them. Eliot had been studying Nate for signs of injury, for any clue he'd received the injuries Eliot associated with prisons, trying to reassure himself without letting the others know his fears.

"So you left because you got tired?" Hardison asked, trying to process, trying to deal with what the hitter had just told him.

Eliot shook his head again.

"Then what?" Hardison asked, his voice getting sharp again, anger was easier, it loosened the tense knot in his gutt enough that he could breath. "Why now? Why not… I don't know. Any time before?"

Eliot put down whatever he'd been holding and turned, blue eyes finally meeting Hardison's, just a hint of anger in his voice finally matching Hardison's. "Because no one was there to stop me."

"Newsflash Eliot. We can't read your mind."

"Never seemed to be a problem before. This aint the first time I thought 'bout running. Just the first time I got out the door." Eliot said, his lips settling into an expression that might have been called a smirk if it had slightly less disdain.

Something in the back of Hardison's mind added inappropriate facial expressions to the list of problems he had right now.

"Oh really now." Hardison said, mockingly impressed. "That supposed to make me feel sorry for you? That's what this whole thing is about isn't it? The melodramatic note, the crappy hide out, looking oh so tired and oh so broken up. You're just pissed off that there's an odd number on the team and want to make sure we're all paying attention to the odd man out when you don't feel like dating your way through the female population of Boston." As he went his voice got sharper and louder, everything he'd been feeling since finding the note snowballing and running out his mouth into words that crossed a line he'd only realize he never should have touched. "Then again we were warned about this weren't we. You promise to be there then you fucking leave me. That's what you do isn't it."

Fire, the kind that warned Eliot was about to go into kill mode, flared across the hitter's face but before Hardison could even get through a mental oh shit and realized he'd gone past fighting fair, the anger turned bitter and cooled to the slow burning at the Hitter's core. "You're right about one thing I guess." He said turning away, the anger still in his voice but different now, and fading. "I'm doing what I do. Surviving. Least this time I learned to leave before I get left."

Hardison felt the words hit him like a computer crash, blue screen of death flashing through his mind when the words first processed, when the resignation behind the words hit him.

Eliot had been tired, had given them all he had, and been worn too thin and been thinking about running and then the party happened and Eliot had seen the writing on the wall and just…

Left.

Because he'd thought they were going to leave him.

For a long long moment neither spoke, or moved, the only sounds were the noise pollution leaking in from the window, Hardison's breath loud in his ears, and his own mind replaying all the times in the past few weeks he'd mentally ranted about Eliot and his emotional issues and obvious childhood traumas and god…

What must have fucking happened to Eliot to make him think they were all going to just move on without him with no warning other than a dance and them being as wrapped up in their own worlds as usual?

They were all so used to dealing with eachother's emotional baggage how had they missed this?

"You said me." Eliot muttered, breaking through the silence and Hardison's train of thought.

"What?"

"When you were shouting." Eliot said. "You said 'you fucking leave me'" He turned around and crossed the distance between them. He looked up, meeting Hardison's eyes with understanding, like the last few pieces had fallen into place in Eliot's mind and he'd seen the big picture and *knew* something Hardison wasn't even sure there was to know. "Go home." He said, with the almost gentleness he normally reserved for kids or a scared and hurting Parker.

Hardison, for once unable to think of something to say, nodded, his eyes finding the floor, and he turned to leave.

He was at the door when he heard it, and it was so soft and came as he closed the squeaky door behind him, and he wasn't really sure it was more than just his mind but…

At the same time he knew that as the door shut behind him Eliot had said. "Be careful out there, little brother."

**oOo**

It had been five days since Hardison's visit and Eliot hadn't even caught a glimpse of anyone from the team.

The old team, he reminded himself.

He wasn't as glad as he wanted to be.

It was more peaceful without them dropping by, or the threat of them dropping by. He could rest and continue to set them in the past and focus on the task at hand. Maybe in a little while, after he finished dealing with the landlord and his many many misdealings here he'd go visit his sister. Seeing her kids always helped a little.

No. That would remind him of family and he needed a little more of a buffer than one job before he'd be ready for that. He was practicing the fine art of being alone again.

There was always that youth center that needed looking into. It had been too small of a job for the team when they had so many high stake jobs lined up but he should be able to see it through by himself. Knock Beuford off the list of bad people in the world.

If the reports he'd heard were true maybe it would be more of a bumping off. There were advantages to not being on a team.

He just had to focus on that. He'd be fine.

In a little while he'd be fine. Like always. Just keep moving forward.

Don't look back.

He repeated what had been his mantra over a decade ago as he fished his keys out of his pocket and let himself back into his apartment building before forcing his thoughts to go back to the current con.

His well dressed and obviously non-local team mates showing up repeatedly hadn't really helped his cover but he'd been able to work around it, keeping the trust of the other tenants while keeping his cover as a war-vet with PTSD living on disability viable. The slumlord had already made the moves Eliot had predicted and it wouldn't be too long until Eliot could move this game into checkmate and get out of this hell hole, the deed of this stretch of buildings in the hands of the Luna family that had lost their youngest daughter last winter, and a couple key officials looking into the ongoing corruption.

It wasn't as elegant as something Nate would put together and Eliot was still trying to work out some of the kinks in the plan before moving into the main stages, but his intel was good and he was getting used to working alone again and he was ready to make some mistakes since he was shifting his focus a little.

He wouldn't move into the next stage until he was certain that if things went as badly as possible the collateral damage would be still be low.

The point was still to make sure things didn't go badly.

"Abe!" Maria Luna called out to him, jogging down the hallway to meet him with a smile on her face like he didn't think he'd seen before but oddly familiar all the same. "It's so… I can't…" She gave up her attempt at broken english and hugged him, slipping into fast paced Spanish that seemed to circle around "thank you" a lot more than anything he'd done for her thus far deserved.

"Maria, Darlin', slow down." He tried to disentangle himself from the near hysterically happy woman, glad at least her husband wasn't around even if he was a rather understanding fellow and it was only a hug.

"Thank you." She said looking up to meet his eyes. _"You said you would do something about him, I didn't belive you but…"_ She took a step back, pulling a manila envelope out of the inside of her jacket and showing it to him. "_It is the deed to this building, it belongs to my family now. The slumlord, he is taken down… news today is all about his crimes. I know you have no TV."_ She said the last with a teasing smile. _"You kept your promise. Thank you."_

"I didn't do anything." He said, confused.

A jokingly secretive smile crossed her face. "_You did nothing. Right."_ She patted his face. _"Go. Keep doing nothing. Your family is waiting for you in your apartment."_

"My… family?"

She nodded and understanding dawned on Eliot. He turned, racing up the stairs, ready to… he didn't even know what.

He let himself into his apartment, not expecting to find Nate and Parker together in his kitchen and Sophie set five places at the circular card table they'd set up, tut tuting to herself over his dishware, while Hardison moved chairs and stools from where they were scattered throughout the apartment.

Alright, an invasion of his space was par for course, but this he didn't know what to make of.

"What did you do?" He asked finally, making his presence known, not like they hadn't all known the moment he stepped into the apartment.

The silence would likely have lasted much longer if Parker hadn't finished cutting the tomato she'd been working on and blurted out. "The broken can opener is Nate's fault." Like she had no idea what he was talking about.

Though this being Parker she probably did break his can opener and passing the blame had taken priority in her mind.

"Not what I meant." He growled. "The Luna's, the slumlord. What did you do?"

"Well, it's hard to leave a job unfinished." Sophie explained, examining a plate in the light like there was nothing at all unusual about the situation other than the possibility of cracked dishware.

"So we figured we'd help move your plans along." Hardison finished, depositing one last chair at the table before sitting down himself.

"This job wasn't what was keeping me here" Eliot growled, demand they get the hell out of his apartment on the tip of his tounge but refusing to leave his mouth.

"We aren't here to tell you to come back" Parker stated, bringing a couple big plates to the table before taking her seat while Sophie settled next to her.

Nate turned away from the stove bringing one last steaming dish, setting it down and looking up to meet Eliot's eyes.

"We came here to ask you to come home."


	3. It's More Than I Deserve

**Note: I**t took a few months longer than intended but I said I'd finish this up eventually. Warning, fluff ahead.

* * *

**It's More than I Deserve**

* * *

Things weren't just, magically, better.

They ate dinner and Eliot, tentatively, agreed to come back to Boston. To give them a second chance.

They went back to Boston, Nate had a job, and after a couple times when giving Eliot an extra glance or asking him a "thoughtful" question resulted in an annoyed growl they started acting like it was buisness as usual.

He'd told them in Chicago he didn't want them to be on thin Ice or treating him like a flight risk. He promised he wouldn't leave for at least five jobs. The sooner things got back to usual the sooner he'd figure out if he would stick around past that.

Well, not usual. That was that point.

But them being oh so careful, putting on a special front of care, and making grand gestures wasn't the point either. It was bullshit and window dressing.

Nate knew that.

But at the tag end of the job he had a moment of sudden realization that they broke rules all the time and the secret team moratorium on trying to give Eliot presents to convince him to stay was one he should break right now.

And really, it wasn't Eliot getting the present.

The pieces were moving, everything was set, and they were waiting in the bar for Hardison to come down stairs in his tux to meet Sophie and head over to the concert hall.

Eliot was sitting at the bar, beer in hand, watching the TV.

Only Nate was pretty sure he wasn't seeing the screen at all. Nate didn't know everything Eliot had done in his lifetime but he'd learned to pick up clues Eliot let slip that something in his history had been brought up by their latest job.

And clear as day Nate could see tonight's brooding was for reasons that had more to do with kids in mines and holding guns than his return to the team.

Nate slid onto the seat next to Eliot at the bar. "Ready for cleanup when this is all over?"

Eliot nodded, turning his attention back to Nate, pulling back to the present.

"Close down the PO boxes, clean and ditch the tax-" Nate continued.

"Taxi and cars, wrap up with the people our aliases contacted and all the rest." Eliot growled back. "I was off the team for a month, Nate. Not out of the game for a decade. I know how to do my job."

Nate gave Eliot his chessmaster smile, the one he knew made Eliot wary an re-examine everything he said and did for an angle. "We also need to figure out what to do with the Violin when this is all over."

Nate watched, pleased, a part of him relishing the fact he had the chance to watch this at all after last month.

Eliot looked like he was concentrating, piecing together Nate's meaning, looking for motive. Understanding dawned on the hitter's face a heartbeat later followed just as quickly by surprise and at last a second moment of understanding then gratitude.

"Think you can figure out what to do with it?" Nate asked.

Eliot looked back down to his drink, growling a rough "yeah, I'll take care of it."

But the hair falling around the hitter's face didn't hide his smile.

**oOo**

It was so easy, almost too easy, to slip into old routine. To act as if there was nothing out of the ordinary playing behind the scenes. They all acted as if it was business as usual, holding their collective breaths to wait and see as things played out.

They were all trying, Sophie knew that, but they were lone wolf personalities that still were used to looking after themselves first and still learning how to think of others without Nate's guiding hand.

Which made her moment of realization much more odd. It was near the end of their second (third? Does the job with Archie count?) when she realized something she could do for Eliot was directly against Nate.

Once upon a time she would have let it slide. Parker had gotten out. All had ended well.

Nate was learning to deal with having them all as peers but it was important to pick your battles.

Except this wasn't Nate being insufferable or not telling them something or his infurriating "Wait for it" while they all wondered what he'd gotten them into this time.

Nate's orders had put Parker at risk.

And as much as Sophie didn't understand Eliot's desire for violence any more than she understood Parker's desire to jump off tall buildings she did understand (now, and maybe always better than she knew) that he did it to protect his team. She'd thought he'd been tired of being their glorified body guard but really?

She was beginning to understand that that was the job he wanted. Their safety was his job and he liked it that way.

His problem was when they made it needlessly difficult to keep them out of harm's way.

So Sophie decided this was one battle she'd pick, now, and in the future. She'd corral Nate. She'd try to get him to stop putting them all in danger needlessly.

She went charging down to the bar, she went head to head with Nate, calling him out for risking Parker, reminding him how thin ice he walked on even now.

She wasn't sure if she got through to him, if it was the right words, and later there'd be a moment of doubt if Eliot would appreciate the gesture if he ever found out.

But later she caught a look from Eliot, confusion but a hint of understanding, and a brief smile before he turned away.

Whatever the fallout with Nate there were worse battles to pick.

**oOo**

"_Sometimes you don't get a second chance to get it right."  
"Why not?"  
"Rules of life."_

Nate had said they changed the rules, that was what they did, but that conversation kept playing through her head.

Sometimes you don't get a second chance.

What were the chances of getting a third chance?

Parker wasn't used to this feeling, like some small rodent (gerbil maybe) had taken up residence in her torso and was now trying to climb the walls with just it's claws. She didn't get scared or worried.

But apparently she did get jealous so maybe she could get other things? Gerbil related things?

She wanted to scream at Nate and Sophie, maybe even Hardison. Didn't they see? They were taking this away from Eliot. The lady with the hair that smelled like Eliot's, who Eliot was determined to rescue because he was Eliot and liked her and had *sung* her *song* which meant something Parker didn't understand but was pretty sure Eliot thought was important…

And now the song was about to be taken away and the girl wouldn't like Eliot anymore and what if this made Eliot decide to leave again?

"Eliot, I'm sorry. We did everything we can." Sophie's words feel like another gerbil. Or maybe a ferret. They're evil after all.

No. She won't freeze. She doesn't freeze.

An idea, not complete, but since when did she wait for anything?

"Maybe not everything." She told Sophie and headed for the stage.

As she breaks through the crowd there's a moment. She has to be good or they'll cart her off and Kirkwood will get on and Eliot will leave. There's a moment. A half a heart beat. She remembers the job with the iceman and the panic she called Sophie in.

This isn't what she does and if she gets it wrong Eliot will leave.

She climbs onto the stage grasping mentally. This isn't her job but if she can make it her job then she can do this.

Almost on their own, and later she'll poke and bother Nate to make sure it wasn't really him invading her mind, a thought floats through her head.

_Parker,__ Have you ever stolen a show?_

She takes a breath and does her job.

When they cart her off stage Eliot is there and she did her job and later, much later, he gives her a smile that finally makes the gerbils and ferrets go away.

**oOo**

For a moment Hardison's almost angry. Eliot knew the militia were making a bomb. Knew there was going to be an attack soon.

And unless Eliot had been replaced by some unbadass look alike Hardison knew Eliot could probably take the entire militia out on his own.

And here he was, insisting they get on a train and not save the day.

He's almost, no he actually is, angry for about thirty seconds.

Then his common sense and what part of his brain actually has a decent understanding of the rest of the team stops tripping around in the woods and catches up with him and Hardison realizes what's going on.

Eliot probably wants to go back into the woods and take down the Militia.

But Eliot's job is to protect the team and there's nothing Eliot takes more seriously and right now going back would put Hardison in the line of fire.

Eliot's not trying to get away. He's trying to get Hardison away.

"Look man." Hardison says, pulling at their handcuffed hands, gesturing behind them, willing Eliot to *not* look at him like a little brother for once (because dammit he doesn't have time for their more than a family bromance right now). "I say we go back down there and we stop them." There's a moment. A look on Eliot's face. Hardison waits, watching, seeing something he doesn't really understand. "I say we kick some hill-billy ass."

Something shifts and Eliot says, "We're gonna get bloody on this one."

And there's a moment, right there, hesitation, and Hardison knows if he backs down now, if he even hesitates they will get on that train and this whole hunted-in-the-woods fiasco will be mercifully over and Eliot will think no less of him for it.

But…

Hardison nods, giving Eliot consent or permission or whatever the man needs and Eliot nods back and Hardison know whatever happens next Eliot isn't going anywhere.

**oOo**

He hurt all over.

He'd been hit by a car, shot at, and thrown into a river.

The pace of the jobs they were already at was coming close to killing him and he was pretty sure he had a low level concussion.

And it had been business as usual, more a focus on Parker and her car theft non-protégé than the fact twelve hours ago Eliot had lost a fight with a ton of steel and a small body of water.

But really? It wasn't like Eliot expected any different. He wasn't sure he wanted anything all that different. The job was done. Everyone was safe. And the team swarming around him with hot packs and Tylenol and concern would probably get on his nerves in less than a minute.

The wrap up was almost done and soon Eliot would go home, pop a couple pain pills, and get a solid three hours of sleep for once and be ready to start again in the morning.

Hell, his jacket might even have survived the dip in the river and it looked like Parker might have swung just a little closer to normal and any minute now the client would show up and Josey would get a decent chance at life.

This was what he came back for. The job. The Team. The clients. Doing good, watching their backs, taking the punishment.

Being the one to go limping home, but soaking up *this* when he could.

The threat of Damien Moreau still hung overhead but maybe, somehow…

"We're you going?" Hardison asked, catching Eliot as he gingerly put on his jacket, getting ready to leave once Nate made the hand off, eager to get some rest and check himself out.

"Just ready to head out," Eliot answered, patting his pockets to see if his keys had survived or if he needed to persuade Parker to give him the extra set he'd had made because the team's thief, as routine, stole everyone's keys at some point. "Why?"

Hardison raised an eyebrow. "Cause Nate wants to debrief us all tonight, just as soon as the client's gone."

Eliot resisted the urge to pound his head against the nearest hard surface. Fuck. He was tired. "Right." He hung his jacket back up.

"Want anything from the kitchen before it closes?" Hardison asked, gesturing toward the bar.

Eliot shook his head and made a mental note to be careful about doing that in the future.

Eliot followed Hardison back downstairs, sitting at a table as the bar staff cleaned up around the last few patrons. They'd ignore him and just leave once they were done, Cora had given the team free run of the place.

He didn't zone out or doze, not really. If there had been a threat, or even just the hint of a threat, he would have known it immediately and acted on it.

If pressed he'd say he'd been in a meditative state when Sophie and Hardison came to the table carrying trays of food and drinks. The hum of conversation he'd been only half listening to was Nate wrapping up with the client.

Hardison handed him a beer, already opened, cold.

Parker and Nate settled down with them at the table. The others began to eat and talk and banter started and even if Nate was Nate and the team was, well, the team…

He sat back, drank his beer, and tried not to grin like some cheeky kid and give Hardison fuel for mocking him in the process.

He hurt all over, he'd been hit by a freaking car, and he was somewhat convinced all four of his co-workers intended on killing him.

But they were safe, even happy, and together and it was the end of the day and they were still safe and happy and together. He done his job and he could sit back now and just…

Be there. Be with them. Be this version of himself he never thought would be possible.

Live this life he knew he didn't deserve but somehow…

In a few months, when time ran out with the Italian and they had to confront Damien this would change.

But if he just sat here, listened, watched, was *with* his family?

He almost believed, whatever happened, they'd get through it.

Together.


End file.
